


Home Is Where the Heart Is

by everywintersbreath



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band), SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hybrid Wen Jun Hui | Jun, M/M, a bit cheesy, yanan's just a human lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 10:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15839451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everywintersbreath/pseuds/everywintersbreath
Summary: For a long time, Junhui's house has been less of a home and more of a prison. Yanan just might be the catalyst to change that.





	Home Is Where the Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> im back to further pollute the junan tag OWO
> 
>  
> 
> !!!tw: weight gain briefly mentioned and also mentions of abandonment!!!!

It’s cold in the house.

It’s been a long time since anyone’s paid for heating, the holes in the windows from rocks thrown through by teenagers letting in the freezing air. Junhui shivers from where he sits on the carpet, one of the sweatshirts left behind by his owner months ago clutched tightly to his skinny form. With a little bit of imagination on his part, he can almost still pick up the man’s scent.

Even Junhui isn’t naive enough to still think that his owner is coming back. It’s been a few months too many for that to happen whether his permanent departure was intentional or not. The only signs of life around are the teenagers who stumble in after hearing his whines on the colder nights, drunk and laughing, thinking it’s a haunted house. Junhui usually hides under one of the beds, trembling, hoping they won’t find him. He knows what happens to hybrids without an owner.

It’s not like he has much of a choice in what to do. His owner had told him to stay, quite firmly, his last words before disappearing. Whether or not Junhui is still obligated to follow his orders, the only other choices are being completely homeless, going back to the pound, or trying to find a nice person on the street. As long as it remains unowned, the house is his best option. 

He bites down on his lip, looking at his bony wrists. Food is the most difficult problem to tackle. He’s eaten everything in the house, even the dubiously spotted meat in the warm refrigerator. In the last few weeks, he’s had to miserably scavenge for anything edible around the house, skulking through the bushes and pulling up the measly clumps of berries and roots he trusts enough to eat. It’s taken a few vomiting episodes to figure out exactly what he should avoid. 

His water comes from the nearby river, the filter left behind by his owner perhaps the most useful item in his arsenal. Drinking is one of the areas he can stay relaxed about for the moment. Bathing, of course, is more of a complicated affair. Junhui sniffs at his arm, satisfied. He doesn’t smell at all despite it having been three days since he’s last been able to clean up. Maybe it’s due to the fact that he’s practically a block of ice in here.

There’s a thump outside, one that makes Junhui jump about a foot into the air, ears flattening against his head. He scrambles backward, trying to hide as quickly as he can. It had sounded like a car door slamming but Junhui hadn’t heard a car roll up. He rushes for the low cabinets in the kitchen, socked feet causing him to slip and knock his head into the island. 

He whimpers, trying to push himself up. Why did this have to happen? He can’t let them find him. How did he not hear anything? What’s going on?

He hears the person attempt to use a set of the keys on the door, giving up when they realize that the lock no longer works. The door creaks open, the sound almost apologetic. Junhui likes to think that it’s saying it’s sorry for not being able to protect him, a thought which he can’t linger on while trying to stuff his body into a cabinet.

“Hello?” A soft voice calls, coming closer. “Is there someone there?”

Junhui panics, contorting his form into the tiny space and shutting the door. It makes a tiny crunching noise as it closes, sending a breath of fright from between his lips. He stays as still as he can, his muscles aching from being twisted in such an uncomfortable position. The footsteps are coming closer. 

He holds his breath, seeing the small amount of light under the cabinet door dim. They’re way too close now. There’s no way they know where he is, right? 

From where his ear is pressed against the wood, Junhui hears the door of a nearby cabinet open and close again. Bile rises in his throat, the sound repeating once more, closer this time. There aren’t that many cabinets in the kitchen. His has to be next. 

The door opens.

Junhui screams.

The man screams.

It takes several seconds for both of them to stop, the man having dropped his flashlight and keys in shock. Junhui heaves, awkwardly unstuffing himself and trying to bolt from the room. The man grabs onto the back of his shirt, big eyes wide in surprise. “Hey, wait!” He cries, voice still wavering from shock.

Junhui stops at the sound of the command, an instinctual response. His body shakes slightly, wobbling over his unsteady feet. The man gently lets go of his shirt, giving him a small smile that reminds Junhui of a baby animal. He manages to look both innocent and mature at the same time, pretty features complimenting his proportioned physique well. 

Junhui shakes his head at himself internally. This guy is probably here to take this house away from him. He shouldn’t be thinking about how handsome he is. “I don’t want to hurt you or anything,” the man says finally, clearly trying to seem as gentle as possible. “I’m sorry that I startled you. I just heard the cabinet and I wanted to know if anyone else was here.”

Junhui’s lips are moving before his brain even decides what’s acceptable to say. “Well, I’m sorry I reacted like that,” he says quietly. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

The man nods excitedly. “Yeah, actually. My friend’s friend’s uncle’s stepson sold me this house for really cheap. I’m pretty broke, so I was excited to buy, even if it needs some work.”

Junhui blanches, confused. He had no idea anyone even owned the house, although it makes sense thinking about it. If it had been taken by the bank he’d likely have been forced out a long time ago. He looks up, seeing the man looking at him expectantly. Junhui flushes, ears flattening again in embarrassment. “Sorry, what did you ask?”

“Oh, I just asked if you live here,” the man says pleasantly. “I’m Yanan by the way, it’s nice to meet you.”

“I’m Junhui,” Junhui mumbles. “And, um, likewise? I live here but if you bought this place I can like, leave.” Yanan looks surprised, shaking his head. “No need to. I understand if this is your home. Do you have an owner?”

Junhui blinks, surprised. “You’re very kind,” he starts. “My owner left me here a few months ago. I’ve just been surviving.”

“I’ll adopt you!” Yanan exclaims loudly, sheepishly lowering the volume of his voice after seeing the way Junhui’s eyes widen. “I mean, then you could live here with me. I don’t know anyone here so it would be nice to have someone to talk to anyway.”

“I mean,” Junhui mumbles, unsure of why he’s acting so shy today. “I think I’d like that? If you’re sure. I don’t want to drag you down or anything.”

“Don’t you worry,” Yanan says with an award-winning smile. “I’m absolutely sure.”

 

-

 

Yanan is quite possibly the sweetest person Junhui’s ever met. That might not be saying much considering the meager number of people Junhui’s known but it’s as sincere of a compliment as he can give. He’s comfortable with Yanan, comfortable enough to drop the shyness that he never was able to quite shed with his old owner. 

When Yanan’s not stuck working shifts at his boring desk job, the two of them do haphazard home renovation projects together. Yanan sings little ditties and Junhui splashes his clothing with paint, giggling as Yanan tackles him down and pretends to wallpaper over his body. It’s the replacement of all the little details that make Junhui happy to wake up again.

He no longer sees an afterimage of his old owner in the living room, only able to picture Yanan against the yellow paint that Junhui had picked out which now coats the walls. The pictures on the mantle are of flowers and Yanan at his college graduation, little plants tucked around the rooms and new rugs covering up the carpet that Junhui had grown so sick of. 

Sometimes, they lie down together on the sofa or the bed upstairs and cry. Junhui cries about his old owner, cries about his warped perception of his self-worth after being abandoned. Yanan cries about not pursuing his dreams, cries about everything he didn’t do, cries because he’s still worried he’s not good enough. 

The glow-in-the-dark stars plastered over the roof of their bedroom shine down onto the pile on the bed, their arms wrapped around each other and teary faces tucked into each other’s shirts. It usually ends with Junhui getting up to go make hot chocolate, turning on HGTV reruns, and cuddling back up against Yanan.

They don’t fight, not really. It’s impossible to when Yanan’s so attentive, petting Junhui’s hair and caressing his soft ears. It’s impossible to when Junhui works so hard to clean the house and prepare meals, putting little drawings of cats into Yanan’s lunch box to make him smile at work. It’s impossible to when the two of them can’t go ten minutes without talking to each other, evidenced by Junhui breaking down and wailing into Yanan’s bedroom an apology minutes after their only real fight.

Yanan takes Junhui with him places, walks with him to the park. Junhui’s pretty collar remains a gleaming symbol of protection against his slim neck. He’s gained weight since Yanan’s moved in, a healthy amount, putting him back in a regular BMI range. It makes him happy when Yanan compliments his body, encourages him to eat and to do what he wants.

It goes both ways, Junhui trying to sing and dance with Yanan at every opportunity. He knows how much the taller male misses the performance life and tries to bring it back to him, twirling and laughing as they sing stupid songs in the living room. It usually ends with one of them tripping over some wires and bruising a knee to much concern from the other (and a fair share of laughter).

Junhui thinks he could do this forever. It’s hard to mind staying in this broken house as long as Yanan’s here. After all, home is where the heart is.

**Author's Note:**

> hi this one is kind of more experimental for me haha i hope u liked it? <3
> 
> junan is so fun to write i swear it's becoming my otp 
> 
> anyway thank u for reading as always


End file.
